


Equilibrium

by Kalpeahius



Series: Teratophilia Shenanigans [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alien/Human Relationships, Breeding, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Dubious Consent, Dubious Ethics, Dubious Science, F/M, Inflation, Multi, Other, Oviposition, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pregnancy Kink, Self-Indulgent, Size Difference, Some Plot, Teratophilia, Xenophilia, unbetaed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 20:01:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17453351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalpeahius/pseuds/Kalpeahius
Summary: She never wanted safe, anyhow.





	Equilibrium

**Author's Note:**

> Heed the "Author Chose not to Use Archive Warnings" in all my works. If you have any trauma triggers, just pass this series.
> 
> Thisss might not be the best work to introduce myself to AO since it's basically self-indulgent practice. A playground in writing niche erotica as a non-native English speaker. Comments are very welcome, especially because this is un-betaed.

The thing with empiric experimenting was that usually the developments were wildly outside her area of expertise.

”You can’t breed me.”

Her words came out feeble. She had difficulties breathing in the stuffy, musky air. Mephisto’s gargantuan body emanated heat like a stove, surrounding her all over. Even the spongy ground against her naked back felt warm. No wonder - before turning into this coal coloured stone, it had been scalding hot magma once. She carefully didn’t think about how its warmth meant that some meters below there was liquid magma flowing freely still. The heat of the place made the air ripple and its sounds muted.

Mephisto dragged her towards him, unmindful whether the stone scratched her skin. Her attention snapped back to the proceedings.

“Are you sure this is a safe place for this?”

“It’s traditional.”

His voice was robust and cracked. The voice of a predator. It had unnerved her greatly when she had met him for the first time. Later, when they were less awkward with each other, and had reached that certain point where curiosity surpassed social conventions, she had asked to have a look into his throat (considering the size of his head and neck it had turned out to be a wet trip, and disconcertingly Mephisto had stared at her like his did his favorite pastry for a week afterwards). His throat was wide and rough inside, and his forked tongue partially unsuited for the sounds and intonation of human speech. So whenever he spoke her language, it came out sounding flat and husky, no matter his mood. Knowing that had improved their communication considerably.

“You just get off at the idea of deflowering a human. I _am_ aware of those ridiculous stories about your ancient soldiers. And you didn’t answer the question.”

“Can’t deny either.” His body language was laid-back and carefree as far as she could tell. His head was turned down, attention on her body and spread thighs that rested on his scaly, rubbery legs. His third eyelids blinked, signaling interest. Still, he returned his eyes to her face. He didn’t like her scared. Worried, uneasy, nervous, uncomfortable – yes, those were all alright in his books. But scared? No, especially when it came to himself being the source for it. He leaned down, the shadow of his body coming to cover her completely. His short muzzle came to nuzzle the side of her face like in after-thought. With him this close it was harder for her to breathe.

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep your vulnerable flesh unscorched.”

She was rather sure he meant that as condescending. He stilled.

“As for-“ his throat rippled suddenly and the sentence was interrupted by an apparently involuntary crackly sound “…As for breeding you. It can be done.”

…What?

“No, it can’t.” She countered. She was the biologist here, not this overgrown alien lizard. But Mephisto never lied. She wriggled for a comfortable position. “Our genetics are not compatible for crossbreed offspring. We can’t even transmit viruses or bacteria onto each other – don’t go telling me about carbon based compatibility I know - impregnation would be ludicrous.”

Mephisto still wouldn’t move.

“You know. There was a reason those soldiers told stories about their human conquering.” Not for the first time, she wished she would have been able to read his voice or body language better. Her small body contained under him, it was even more difficult to make out anything of him. “They valued human females because they could be used for…well, to make something useful.”

“Like what?” Her voice was a whisper.

“The engineers.” That…the sentient, disfigured aliens who designed and sustained Mephisto’s species’ machina?

“…They’re. They’re human.”

“No, they’re not. But made from your genes. So yes, I can breed you. I only need to stick myself deep in here,“ Mephisto’s large, monstrous hand came to rest on her lower tummy, the huge palm pressing against the edge of the last bastion of her modesty – black, worn out panties, “for a few times. First to push it wide enough for entry, and to coat the walls of your uterus with a sticker fluid.” He petted her stomach, the rough texture of his hand like rubber against her skin. “Then again to insert the eggs. Usually around 4-6 of them.” He stilled, like he was restraining himself. “And lastly, to regularly feed the adhered eggs with my semen so that they will evolve from the nutriments of both parents. That would be repeated for several times during a long interval; two weeks or so. They’d grow and inflate into about the size of your fist until detaching from your uterus. Then you’d give birth to them, and they’d be placed into incubators.”

She was momentarily struck speechless, both from the dismay and the evo-biological implications.

_“You didn’t think to mention this?”_

Mephisto continued petting her, apparently unconcerned.

“Well, for an impregnation to succeed you’d need to be on the third part of your ovulation cycle, so that your egg cell nutriments and its DNA would mix into my eggs immediately. And currently,“ His hands came to grasp her upper thighs to open them more. The inner tendons of her legs protested, “you smell like you’re on your first. Therefore, I can safely stuff you full without consequences.”

She narrowed her eyes. That sounded an awful lot like the guys back home when they didn’t want to use condoms and were in the opinion that ‘natural birth control’ was a thing. Mephisto’s palm felt like the water bottles she sometimes used to ease her monthly cramps.

“And if your smell miscalculates? If they can evolve on their own-“

He let out a guttural sound, like in imitation of human exasperation.

“They won’t evolve on their own. Just keep me out for a few days and they’ll dissolve and come out.” His crest dropped at that, like the thought displeased him. He bent down again, muzzle beside her ear, left eye staring into her eyes unblinkingly.

“Let me do this. I’ll make you feel good.”

His scaly chest came to rest heavily against her bare front. She exhaled. The air smelled like iron and coal; his skin like musk and sea salt.

“…I want documents. And a full report on what’s known, later.” She paused. “I’m putting a lot of trust on you. No babies or permanent damage.”

He breathed with her for a moment. “I’ll honor that trust.”

Then he straightened, and with one sudden movement hoisted her upwards – high, high along his bent thighs until their crotches were separated by her forearm’s length. His hands came to cup her waist, dragging up along her sides, his jagged and big thumbs gliding along her ribs and pausing to press against the peaks of her breasts. The thumbs covered her nipples and areolas completely, flatting her breasts down like they would have mounded dough. At once her hands slammed down on his wrists, arms, knuckles – searching for some control in the proceedings. Her lungs heaved.

“Meph-…“

She couldn’t finish the name due to his huge hands restricting her chest’s movements.

“You are so fragile. I wonder how far I could push.” The grip of his hands tightened, cradling her like a vice. Her back bowed, and his thumbs pressed down harder, making a slow round movement. The scratchy texture of his skin left angry red impressions on her. Her heartbeat began to run, thumping wildly against her rib cage. She still had difficulties breathing. He kept her restrained for a moment, then loosened his hold. Then tightened it again, this time for longer. Now she tried to squirm; she really couldn’t breathe.

“…A test for another time.” He let off again, watching her desperately heaving chest as she immediately gulped in air.

“And with safe words.” She rasped, puny human nails trying to sink into his skin, and coughed. She’d present him with allergenic flowers for that.

“Hmm. You wouldn’t have chosen me if you wanted safe.” He commented, other hand and arm coming to lift and support her. The second one glided downwards along her chest, his thumb coming to press between her legs. She held her breath.

“And this wetness tells a story, doesn’t it. I did do some research prior.” His fingers slipped under her panties, pulling them down as far as they went and fitted snugly in between cloth and flesh. She had been concentrating on regulating her breathing back to normal, and only noticed that things had changed when something wet and hot dripped on her stomach, like someone had spilled water from a jug. She lifted her head.

And consequently panicked.

“Mephisto. That won’t fit.”

His…cock? Had been inside a sheath below his belly; this was the first time she saw it uncovered and the sheath withdrawn. She had a short flashback of her visit to Maer’s botany garden, to a fuchsia-green plant, zingsomething, covered in hard leaves that gushed out liquid when squeezed. Mephisto’s zing was considerably larger and blood-red, and the scales spread out and closed in again as if breathing. They looked sharp. Like teeth. Clear fluid was dripping from the organ’s forked tip, steadily forming a puddle on her stomach. He paid her reaction no heed.

“Not all the way, no. It doesn’t have to.”

He pulled her upwards again and leaned down slightly. His cock came to rest against her; It was heavy and hot. She was hyper-aware of the barbs extending and contracting against her clitoris. Sweat was rising on her temples and in the crooks of her groin.

“Is that your semen?” Her mouth opened before her brains caught on. They had a habit of switching into their data gathering mode when panicked – a useful distraction in grave circumstances.

“Mmm, no. It’s the glue.” Now that he mentioned it, she saw how the fluid clouded and thickened – perhaps due to the air. Mephisto rumbled.

“I’d prepare you with fingers, but considering the claws that might not be a good idea. I’ll just go in slow. Relax.”

That reminded her.

“Wait, wait- Mephisto- are those things going to keep extending when inside-“

He gathered her close, made a restless movement against her stomach and upper crotch. His warm hold was careful, hands forming a cocoon around her- it didn’t really calm her down, what with the angry looking cock waiting. His voice was as flat as always, but his third eyelids kept appearing in quick intervals. Impatient, interested, aroused, they meant too many things. She couldn’t see his tail, whether it was straight or agitated. His small crest was up, though.

“Of course. They’re meant to keep me inside to the hilt- don’t tell me you’ve never heard about knots?”

_Knots?_

“Well, it’s not like your people share these things!” Her voice had a hysterical edge. She tried to find support inside his hands to sit up, either to escape or re-negotiate. Realized Mephisto wouldn’t let her. She stared at him.

“You promised.”

His crest flattened.

“I’m not breaking my promise, but you’re being a scaredy-cat. Let me.”

The fluid oozing from his cock was sliding along the line of her front, first trailing down on her ribs in small streams, then puddling between her breasts. It had turned milky. He waited, didn’t move.

“I…”

She wasn’t a scaredy-cat. She just…had healthy doubts.

“I…”

But if a baby could fit through there. Mephisto waited, silent.

Fuck it all.

“Come here- I need to…”

She reached for him, arms straining. He moved his head close obligingly. Her arms surrounded his muzzle, fingers grasping to pull his face to the side of her neck. His chin rested on her shoulder, lizardy-throat on her chest. She tried to hug it. He hummed, the sound rumbling in his throat and vibrating onto her body.

“…You mammals are so weird. Honestly, things down there would be more comfortable for you to hug.”

She laughed shakily; let go reluctantly. He didn’t really see the appeal in hugging but indulged her readily.

“Maybe I will, later.”

He huffed out a gust of hot air.

“You smell good. Mine.”

Well, of course she did. She was covered in his stupid jelly-glue. She wondered briefly how much rubbing it’d take to wash it off.

Apparently Mephisto took her hug as a permission and rose up, satisfied. His other palm came to lift her hips, a single claw curving around, and snapping the string of her underwear. He opened her legs wide, angled himself. She fumbled for support, tried to relax, deemed it better not to watch. Mephisto was certainly staring for the both of them, eyes gleaming.

Then he pressed his tip at her entrance. It felt prickly. His thumb came to pull her vulva upwards, exposing the slit more. He might have grumbled something about small things - She was too busy inhaling and trying to close her legs- no use, his hold was iron. He started to push inside for earnest. She whimpered - this _would_ break her partly intact hymen (a bike had taken a chunk) for good, and that at least would hurt. His fluids gushed out in lazy spurts from between his cock’s scales, drenching her thighs and vulva. Something squelched - an obscene sound that made her blood rush down.

…In, in, in-…Slowly, inevitably, mercilessly. She whinnied, small wounded sounds, tried to kick and squirm. Mephisto hummed, low and deep inside his chest.

“Relax.” The word was crackly, barely distinguishable as speech. His voice was shifting back onto his own language.

Relax. As if it were that simple. And she tried, by gods she tried. Then the first ring of actively extending barbs plunged in, and she couldn’t hold in a sob when they forced themselves through her hymen. It hurt more than the bike rail had.

Mephisto paused, restraining himself. Breathed in through his flat nose. “…Blood?”

She whined quietly in reply, it still stung, and tried speaking. “N-No, it’s the rest of my hymen, it’s normal, can’t be helped-”

“Ah.” He relaxed at that, and unfortunately, his hips took the chance to give in to a reflex to thrust.

She _wailed_. Her entrance stretched thin, trying to accommodate the ramrod cock. It ached, and the barbs protruded out greedily, scratched her folds and inner walls. His fluids worked as lube, easing the way in somewhat, but it really didn’t make his cock any easier to _fit._

“Sorry.” Mephisto pulled back quickly, stayed still for a moment. He watched her, eyes zeroing on her eyes where water had gathered in the corners. She didn’t know if he was frustrated. She sure was.

“…This won’t do. Let’s change the angle.”

That was her only warning before he pulled out, hoisted her up and flipped her around. He pressed her against his belly so that they were back to front. Her legs came to straddle the root of his cock, her view of it less blurry than before. He supported her in the air, spread her legs as far as they went again.

“Like this. Watch it go in - it’s easier when you see what comes next and how much is left.” His thumb pressed against her vulva and clitoris, rubbing as gently as his size would let him. His other hand covered her upper body, long finger coming to support her breasts and a single claw trailing a careful circle around her areolas. “And let’s keep you distracted this time.”

He lifted her, bent her knees. It would have been a fine presentation for the world if not for his cock blocking the view. He started to press her down, moving his rough finger against her slowly all the while. A dichotomy of pleasure and pain, a hurt and a burn. She watched, as Mephisto had told her to. Her crotch was a mess, glistening wetly, her vulva dark red and swollen. With shaking hands she took a hold of his cock and attempted to guide it as well as she could. Slick and big- difficult to get a grip on. She noticed the tip was both a spoon and a fork, flowing like a fountain. Evolved like that to better insert the eggs? She swallowed weakly.    

But it _was_ easier. She still ached, and the growing pressure began to hurt eventually but- She watched him sink in, watched his hand supporting her. It really was Mephisto, wasn’t it? She was having sex with a monster. A large, pushy monster with dubious ethics. She bit her lower lip until it stung more than her stretching folds, closed her eyes for a beat.

She never wanted safe, anyhow.

…In…in…in…She felt his breathing against her back. Like leaning against bellows that were getting more forceful by the minute. He rumbled.  
  
She exhaled, trembling slightly. 

“Let’s…stuff me full of your eggs then.” An unsteady provocation. The effect was instant, his chest vibrating with crackles. He didn’t quite ram inside but it was close. She whined and watched as his cock pulsed and swell at the root. He must have pumped enough coverage inside her, she thought faintly. Fluids were leaking out of her vagina as if overflowing. He hadn’t started moving yet for which she was grateful, but the eggs…would he have to-

She got her answer when Mephisto thrust up violently, hips finally indulging in shallow, repetitive thrusts. They were heavily restrained and rounded instead of stabbing, but with each push he went deeper and harder and- Then the toothy scales at the hilt spread, locking his cock in. She bit her lip until the taste of blood burst on her tongue.

She thought she heard bubbling magma and saw black spots dancing over her eyes; the world rippled and for a moment, in place of Mephisto she saw a double-image of a warrior of the songs, enjoying the spoils of his war.

Her head hung down, and she saw how the shape of Mephisto’s cock had inflated her lower stomach, making it seem as if she had a bump. Mephisto pressed against it, perhaps trying to feel it in vain. Then, eyes riveted and unfocused, she saw the egg traveling up his cock, thickening the girth where it pushed itself up. Partly horrified and partly fascinated she stared at its ascending-

“Hnnggah-“

She spasmed, held on Mephisto’s hand when the egg disappeared inside. She couldn’t feel it, but imagined how it would burst out from the forked tip with a contraction and into her uterus. She wondered if the head was at the mouth of her uterus, or through it. It ached enough to be either. And how big was the egg again, a plum? That couldn’t be it- How many would fit-

Mephisto continued moving, hot puffs of air hitting her shoulders and the back of her neck where his head was hanging down. He didn’t speak, probably couldn’t, crumbled as he was over her. And she, she couldn’t get air. Musk, pain, heat, difficult position, his hand less careful and more constricting around her now.

“Meph-.. _nnngh-_ “

There came the second egg...the third...fourth, in pulses. She was feeling faint. He kept thrusting emptily, the tendons of his legs tensing and relaxing in rhythm. Yet he wouldn’t crouch and mount her, even though his aborted, leaning movements expressed the desire loud and clear.

And he better not, she thought blearily, and fainted.


End file.
